


No Choice

by InkedFountainPen



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Halloween Costumes, Implied/Referenced Crossdressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkedFountainPen/pseuds/InkedFountainPen
Summary: Near put on his L mask a became an L ghost.Mello was nothing short of aghast.Matt didn't learn from the first time and started cackling again, only to have trouble inhaling shortly after.The second generation of successors were by no means well-versed in the art of party-going because if they were, they wouldn't have done this.





	No Choice

The second generation of successors were by no means well-versed in the art of party-going, but it seems that to be a recognized genius, there is no qualification to be genius at everything. 

Near never went outside his room. 

Technically, he did leave every now and then for classes and exams as well as the occasional watering and feeding, but other than that no one ever saw him. Unless they sought him out themselves, but then they would have to clear an obstacle course of Near's own design composed entirely of insanely high towers of small objects. A maze of six-sided die protecting a small child from interacting with other not-as-small children combined several card cities (too complex to be towers) connected by a Nate-powered railroad always stood between the door and the far corner of the room which the sock-footed boy retreated to anytime he heard footsteps from the adjacent hallway. His peers were frustrated by the hurdles upon hurdles he erected, but were all too aware of how much time he invested into them; so they made sure to step with care. The current record for fastest round trip (he made a point of refusing to leave until his visitor made it all the way across his course— without knocking anything over) was five minutes. This deterred anyone other than those with official business to pay a call on him.

Unfortunately, this also meant the only one that ever got sent into his room for emergencies was Mello, who didn’t care how long Near spent working on his stim-toy civilization and wanted to be out of his room as soon as possible. He also could probably care less where Near was in an emergency (he wanted to beat the snow haired boy himself though, so his pride probably couldn't accept him taking the easy way out). His record in and out was thirty seconds, although this was one thing he didn't want to be the champion at, because it meant spending time with Near outside of class. He left Near with a floor even more dangerous than before, but with the blond's air of recklessness and disarray rather than Near's straight, catergorized organization.

Mello was a nerd. Mello was also without question: an asshole.

He was always studying in hopes for a chance to beat the reclusive architect, and when he wasn't doing that, he was venting in some form or other (one could probably argue that studying was also a method of venting, and they would probably be right). This consisted of having a shout about either Near, L, Roger, or Matt (although he never really insulted L, that privelege was reserved for Near and anyone else that ticked him off) to Matt himself; regardless of where the ginger's attention was fixed. He would growl at one of the masses of this other peers lower down the ranking. He would smack around the punching bag he'd been equipped with so he wasn't tempted to practice the fighting techniques they learned at Whammy's on Near (which would annoy Matt, but it was fair game because he hadn't listened during the rant phase). He would trash talk Near to his face, and send his towers crashing down.

Matt, meanwhile, wasn't as socially inept as either the current leader or the runner up, but didn't remember anything about any of the 'parties' he'd attended at or around Whammy's. That tended to happen when emotionally challenged children were exposed to larger quantities of alcohol infrequently; he hadn't managed to build up a tolerance because if he couldn't be trusted with something as mundane as caffeine it wouldn't make sense to give him alcohol.

Near didn't go to parties, Mello didn't get invited, and Matt couldn't prove that he went.

Whatever the circumstances, Mello had amassed enough second-hand knowledge from books to gather that expecting the three Whammy's alums to represent their mentor without bringing shame to the name L was a tall order. It was a tall, if not impossible, order.

He had somehow managed to be adequately presentable for the night's endeavour.

He reclined on the end of the black leather couch with legs in their barren temporary headquarters. One of his hands rested slightly below the crown of his head and the other gripped the wrapper of a particularly eaten chocolate bar, giving him a laid back look. His signature assortment of leather everything and prominent scowl missing from his face, which instead rested neutral with his eyes staring off into space. Resting on the top of his bangs was his mask. It was a simple half white mask that contoured the top of his face.

The teen's hair had been brushed and styled until its brilliant shine rivaled that of Jason's Golden Fleece. A clear elastic encircled the last quarter of it, pulling it into a loose ponytail. A sizeable chunk of his bangs had been up neatly with three metal clips on the left side of his face. An angry red scar trailed up from the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, following his cheekbone to the edge of his nose before trailing out of view underneath the start of his hairline. He didn't usually advertise this disfigurement, but it was a form of silent rebellion to being dolled up. It wasn't like someone had forced him to wear the outfit he'd selected, but Matt may as well have.

The blond's best friend (at the moment he was leaning more towards Traitorous Bastard than Bestie) was the only one out of the three who had his driver's license. Near was chauffeured anywhere he might want to go (nowhere except for back to his room) and Mello had a habit of wrecking his motorcycle and bringing it into the shop for long servicing periods. As their designated driver, this masquerade would be the first party Matt would ever remember. Not only that, but he got to set restrictions on the outfits of the other two. If they weren't dressed to his amusement, he wouldn't drive. He didn't care what L thought of him, but they did. He hadn't told Near he couldn't wear certain things, but he had explicitly told Mello he wouldn't even bother getting into his car if the chocoholic tried wearing any amount of leather. He had also made a bet with Near that whatever Mello wore would be black, ("like his soul") and wagered a large amount of money.

While Mello didn't want Near to win, he did want to send the chainsmoker spiraling into debt.

Mello was wearing a bright yellow dress shirt and a grey pair of slacks. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. On his left wrist was a cheap watch he'd bought from the jewlery aisle to count down the minutes until the night's close. The two two buttons of his collar remained unclasped, probably so he could appear undoubtedly masculine without his leather. Any form of a tie was absent.

By his watch, the three were going to be late if those two didn't hurry up. He raised his left hand (the one holding his precious dark chocolate) to his mouth and bit into it. He jerked his head slightly to tear off a chunk of the treat. The snap reverberated around the empty room.

Several bites of chocolate later and the two other boys still hadn't trudged into the main room. Mello's face had acquired its usual scowl some time ago.

"Mello! I need a bit of help, could ya come in here?" 

The gamer's voice pierced the stillness of the house. Mello rolled his eyes and rocked himself off of the couch. He stomped through the hallways, each step of his black dress shoes delivering an echoing clack.

Matt didn't know what had possessed him to make the choices he did, but he wasn't at all upset. This was the best idea he'd ever had. Mello had frozen in the doorway. Expecting the three Whammy's boys to represent themselves and L well was a tall order indeed.

He snickered at his friend's reaction upon seeing him and raised his eyebrows two times suggestively.

"Do you like what you see?"

Matt stood in the center of his room in a red, flowing, sparkly dress. It was sleeveless, but had a two-inch strap on each shoulder. It was solid wine-red. He had a red version of the half mask that Mello did, except near the eyes and the edges were three cuts meant to resemble scars. The pretty dress and the stern mask sent a plethora of mixed messages. The ginger was planning on crossdressing at the most important event of the year. He removed his goggles from their resting place burried among the locks of his wild hair. He would put in contacts in a few minutes. Picking up the front of his dress, he strolled over to Mello.

"Yello, be a dear and zip me up. I would, but I can't reach the back."

He spoke in a fake high voice and fluttered his lashes. Mello's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms.

"No way in hell you're going dressed like that."

Matt chuckled mimicked Mello's pose. The two had a mini staring contest before the computer genius interrupted it.

"Ah, but here's the thing, I am."

Near chose this moment to shuffle in, gripping his handmade L mask in one of his hands. His hair was obstructed by a white hood, and the rest of him was covered by tattered layered cloth. The cloak tied at the neck with a custom clasp in the form of a wide-eyed ghost.

"Near, what the hell are you wearing?"

Mello took a few steps back as if that would delete the picture in front of him. Matt and Near had to have planned this. They were doing this to upset him further more he already was for this stupid party. It was working.

A quiet monotonous voice drifted out of the shortest occupant of the room. The hand not gripping his L mask lifted to twirl a stray strand of white hair around his finger. The corners of his lips perked up.

"Why, it's the same thing I wear every Halloween."

Exactly. Each year for trick-or-treating, Near went as a sheet ghost without fail. The original sheet was one Mello had stabbed multiple times with a fork, and then Near had improvised from there.

This wasn't a Halloween party, it was a masquerade ball. Their lack of knowledge about social etiquette didn't extend this far.

"Yeah Mells, he's going as a Sheep Ghost."

Matt burst into a peal of laughter, but quickly ceased when he found the tightness of his dress around his torso made it extremely hard to breathe. Near's smirk dropped as he glared at Matt.

"No, there is no way I'm going to be seen in public with the two of you looking like that."

Near regained his smile, and Matt recovered from his little episode.

"Yes, but if Mello had the choice, Mello wouldn't want to go to this party in the first place," Near's smile leaked into his response.

"And Mello, the fact remains that you don't have the choice. Now zip me up, and let's get this show on the road."

Near put on his L mask a became an L ghost.

Mello was nothing short of aghast.

Matt didn't learn from the first time and started cackling again, only to have trouble inhaling shortly after.

The second generation of successors were by no means well-versed in the art of party-going because if they were, they wouldn't have done this.


End file.
